Hope Was A Place Uncharted
by carouselcolours
Summary: "Coop," Blaine tries once more, "Why am I in the hospital?"


AN: Hey guys, I would just like to put a real quick disclaimer before the actual fic. This actually came around as a Personal Response assignment for my English class, with the prompt being how the text related to Personal Integrity. The text that I used to write this entire piece around was W.H. Auden's poem "There Will Be No Piece", which you can read .org/pipermail/virtueonline_. . As usual, I don't own Glee although I wish I did, and reviews would be great. Thanks!

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><p>Beep…<p>

Beep…

Beep…

The slow murmuring of the heart monitor was what first brought him to. It was an unusual sound; most definitely not a sound that he'd find around his home normally. However, it took him a few minutes longer to realize that his eyes were jammed shut, and longer than that in order to win a fight with his body to open them.

And once he did open them, he almost immediately regretted it.

The world was brighter than he'd remembered it being. The walls were so white they were almost glowing, the grey of the sky coming in through the window legitimately was glowing, and that was how that intense was. The numerous amounts of colourful flowers and vases on the small bedside table beside were vastly oversaturated. He took his time with blinking, opening and shutting his eyes at a much slower than required pace. The room he was in was over sterilized. It smelled of bleach and chlorine, and the only logical conclusion to come from that would be that he was in a… hospital?

"Hey, Blaine! You've joined the land of the living!" a deep voice chuckled from the left, and he whipped his head around (which, it turns to have been a pretty bad idea, because ouch) and sitting in one of those standard green, super uncomfortable hospital chairs is Blaine's older brother Cooper. Who, right now, should be in Columbus, attending one of his many pre-law classes at Ohio State. Not sitting vigil at his little brother's bedside because… of… well, reasons that Blaine apparently cannot remember in his freshly awakened state.

Perhaps he should get a doctor to check him over for amnesia. Wouldn't that just be great?

"Hey, Coop," Blaine starts off uneasily, and he moves to run a hand through his unruly curls, but finds himself unable to due to a tenser bandage around the width of his head; even then, the fact that even just half raising his arm made three of his ribs absolutely scream in agony. The wince of extreme pain is more than obvious on Blaine's face, as his arm falls flat back to the hospital bed and he grunts at the rib exertion.

Throughout all of this, Cooper just raises an eyebrow.

"Coop," Blaine tries once more, "Why am I in the hospital?"

Now, while Blaine isn't sure what to expect from his brother, he really did not expect the incredulous look of disbelief that popped up on his face at his fairly simple question.

"Well," Cooper starts off at last, once he seems to grasp the fact that his little brother is in fact not joking, "First off, you've been in that coma of yours for about three days there buddy. Mom went downstairs to go get some coffee, and dad is at work," he rolled his eyes, "As usual. Now, before we start panicking about memory loss, what's the last thing you remember before waking up?"

Blaine looked down, focusing on the dark grey of the linen as if they would help him think back. Three days ago, where had he been three days ago? What had he been doing? Think brain! Think! Thin-

…

…

Oh.

Well.

Huh.

Maybe there was a reason he had forgotten everything, after all.

He raised a hand to his cheek, as if ghosting the feel of a sneaker smashing hard into it nights before.

Of someone landing a lucky punch or two by his jaw. And a grand ol' soccer kick to his ribs.

You know, whatever it would take to almost kill him.

"Sadie Hawkins," He croaked. Blaine's throat had gone dry, as he stared blankly ahead, memories of that night coming to him like water bursting through a dam.

"Remember how I told you that I was going to go to that dance, right? Well, I asked my friend Tyler, cause you know, being Western's Token Gay kids we might as well try and attempt a school dance with each other, right?" when Cooper gave a sharp nod of understanding, Blaine continued on with his story.

"So his dad picked me up, and we went to the school, danced to only fast songs, and only on the outskirts of the dance floor at that. Nothing 'super showy'," He made a flailing gesture with his hands, "And by the end of the night, we figured we had actually had a pretty fun night." The small smile that had slowly slipped onto Blaine's face by this point had disappeared.

"And then those stupid football jocks came. Five of them against the two of us, kicking and shoving and punching us. Calling us faggots and fairies, telling us that we shouldn't be displaying '_that'_ kind of '_behaviour'_ in public".

The tears pouring down Blaine's face now were involuntary, the memories of the attack almost as painful as the reality of it. Cooper put a hand on his brother's arm in a motion of comfort.

"Blaine, relax, man. Just relax," He motioned to do the calm breathing, as the younger boy was on the verge of hyperventilation. "People like those football players hate for hate's sake-" Cooper cut himself short, bursts of anger threatening to jump from the very innocuous pits of him.

Which were exactly, what Blaine didn't need right now.

"Prejudice is just ignorance." He continued at last, "Their cause is nothing to them now. You have more courage for willing to go out, and go to that dance with Tyler. You have way more courage than they'll ever have." He gave his brother a one-armed hug, which he eagerly returned.


End file.
